MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Standing in front of her full-length mirror, Elena critically eyed her reflection. She had to look the part of the seductive, powerful boss lady tonight. After considering several options from her expansive closet, she finally settled on a form-fitting red dress that hugged her curves like a second skin. The neckline plunged daringly low, offering a tantalizing view of her cleavage.

She paired the dress with sky-high black stilettos and a collection of glittering gold jewelry - chunky bracelets, dangling earrings, and a necklace that drew the eye straight to her décolletage. With expert skill, Elena applied her makeup, smoking out her eyes with dark shadow and lining her lips in a bold crimson shade.

As a final touch, she twisted her long, dark hair up into an artfully messy updo, leaving a few tendrils to frame her face. She looked every inch the temptress, ready to manipulate men's desires and separate them from their money.

Satisfied with her appearance, Elena glanced at the clock. Nearly midnight - time to get to work. She snatched up her fur coat and draped it over her shoulders before venturing out of her bedroom.

"Drake!" she called imperiously as she descended the sweeping staircase of her lavish mansion. "Get the car. It's time."

Drake materialized from one of the side rooms, already dressed in his usual dark suit and tie.

"Of course," he said with a nod. "I'll bring the car around front."

Elena allowed herself a small, wicked smile as she watched him go.

Shortly after, Elena strode to the front door, her heels clicking on the polished marble floor, she had a business to run and a role to play.

She stepped out into the cool night air just as Drake pulled up in the sleek black town car. He hopped out to open the rear passenger door for her, ever the gentleman. Elena slid into the buttery leather seats, crossing her legs as Drake closed the door behind her.

As the car purred to life and pulled away from the mansion, Elena allowed herself a moment to gather her thoughts. Tonight would be a night like any other at the brothel - drink, debauchery, and the delicate dance of deception. She would smile and flirt and coax secrets from drunken men all while they pawed at her girls.

*****

Drake drove Elena through the neon-lit streets of the Red light District late at night. The area was known for its sex trade, with brothels and strip clubs on every corner. Elena puffed on a cigar as she sat at the back of the sleek black car, the very picture of a self-assured boss lady.

As they pulled up to the brothel that served as a front for Elena's operation of catching cheating husbands, shady characters on the street called out greetings. "The very gorgeous lady Elena, looking good as always!" one man whistled. Elena smiled and waved, playing her part.

Inside, the establishment reeked of stale sweat, cheap perfume, nudity, and sin. Scantily clad women of all races and body types lounged around, waiting for customers. Men came and went, some eagerly following a girl upstairs, others counting crumpled bills.

"Back to work," Elena said briskly as she strode through the main room, ignoring the hungry stares directed her way. She knew many of the men desired her, with her curves, full lips and air of power. But Elena was off-limits. Their murmurs followed her - "What I wouldn't give for a piece of that." "The things I'd do to her..."

Drake fell in step behind her, his broad form an imposing presence guarding her office door. Inside, Elena took her place behind a large mahogany desk and lit another cigar. It was time to get down to business.

A knock sounded and Drake ushered in the first client of the night, a nervous-looking man in a generic suit. "W-what's the rate for, um, a girl? Just for an hour?" he stammered, eyes fixed on Elena's ample cleavage displayed by her low-cut dress.

Elena leaned forward, offering him a patronizing smile even as she internally cringed at his pathetic demeanor. Men - so easily manipulated by the hint of flesh. "For you, darling, $300 for the hour. But I'll give you two girls for $500. A little DP action, hmm?" She winked salaciously.

The man nodded eagerly, fumbling for his wallet. Elena called in two bored-looking blondes and waved them away. The night progressed in a similar fashion, Elena deftly handling pricing and selecting girls to match each client's obvious proclivities. All the while, she suspected most of these men had a wife or girlfriend waiting at home, fools!

Partway through the night, raised voices sounded from the main room, punctuated by a woman's scream. Elena sighed and pushed up from her chair as Drake hurried to investigate. A moment later he reappeared, holding a struggling young woman by the arm. She was in her panties and bra, half way naked it seemed. Behind them came an irate man with a bloody nose.

"The bitch bit me! I paid for an hour and I'll damn well get it!" he snarled, taking a step towards the terrified prostitute. Quick as a flash, Drake positioned himself between them.

"You'll get a refund," Elena said coldly. "We don't tolerate violence against the girls."

"She attacked me!" the man protested.

Elena raised an eyebrow. "And I'm sure you did nothing to provoke that response? Get out, Now."

Grumbling, the man accepted a wad of bills from Elena and left, casting dark looks over his shoulder. Once he was gone, Elena turned to the crying woman.

"Tanya, what happened?"

Between sniffles, the story emerged - the client had tried to force her into a degrading sex act, growing rough when she resisted. Elena tended to the bite mark on Tanya's shoulder and gave her the rest of the night off. Just another example of how ugly this business could get.

Her girls were her assets. As much as she used them they always were priced possessions of hers. Some imported and some locally recruited. Beauty was the display picture that made the business thrive. Her job was to make sure all her girls were spotless and tantalizingly attractive for horny men to devour.

As the hours stretched on, Elena grew weary. Being the hard-assed bitch in charge took its toll. Finally, the stream of clients lessened and the sky began to lighten outside. Pouring herself a glass of vodka, Elena sank back in her chair and kicked off her stilettos, flexing her aching toes.

"Go home, Drake," she said, waving off his concerned look. "I just need a moment."

Once she was alone, Elena let herself slump, the strong facade cracking. She gulped the harsh vodka and massaged her temples. What a craptastic night. Was this really what her life had become? A neverending parade of horny douchebags and damaged women? Maybe it was time to -

"Elena," A deep voice reverberated through her skull, bypassing her ears to punch straight into her brain. It was like a direct phone call into her head. She shot upright, the vodka glass falling from her hand to shatter on the floor. That voice - she would know it anywhere.

"My lord," she replied quickly, bowing her head even though there was no one else in the room. "How may I serve you?"

"Come to the top floor," Duncan commanded, his tone making it clear he would not tolerate delay. "Now,"

"Yes, my lord. Right away."